Ponderings
by Ranoko
Summary: Fakir wonders why writing has to be so difficult.


Written not long after finishing the series, and also set not long afterwards. A little oneshot that refused to leave me until I wrote it.

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_The duck swam around on the lake. It was a nice lake, with plenty of sun and warmth. She never felt scared while she was there. And she always liked to see the human with black hair who gave her bread crumbs. He was nice. He came a lot, and she liked the bread crumbs-_

Fakir crumpled the paper and threw it into the water. "Damn it!" he exclaimed. He watched the water soak the paper and turn it to mush, just like his attempts at writing had gone. "Why can't I write?" he griped, then put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. It wasn't that it had exactly been easy for him to write, even before he'd given it up. It was just the fact that he had been practicing lately, done exercises writing with simpler things. His writing skills were getting better. But still… he couldn't write about the one thing he _needed_ to.

He had always been able to write about _her_; always. At times it hadn't exactly been what he wanted to write, but he had always been able to write _something_ about Duck. Now, the best things he could come up with were a non-committal jaunt around the lake, and making sure she always had food. Which wasn't a bad thing. He heard her continue to peck at the bread crumbs nearby. She never got tired of them. Maybe he should start writing about giving her something healthier; bread crumbs could only do so much for her, after all. But that wasn't the point. The point was that he could help her so much more, if only he could _write_!

He gave an audible sigh which could have been mistaken for a grunt, and opened his eyes. He set his pen down on the empty pages, waiting for him, and set them to the side. They would wait longer. He wouldn't be able to write in this mood; he'd learned that much, at least. He stood up and walked to the edge of the water. Duck followed him with her eyes, and he thought he glimpsed some concern in them, but then she went back to her food. Fakir made a fist. Here he was again; _useless_.

He had been useless to the Prince for the longest time, preventing him from progressing anywhere. Then he had been useless in getting the heart shards back, even resisting Princess Tutu and Mytho's wishes. But that plan had failed, despite his struggling against it. His efforts at being a true knight had failed similarly. Then, he had been useless in protecting both Duck and Mytho from the Raven…

But he hadn't been completely powerless. He had to remind himself of that. Duck reminded him of that, every day. She was an actual duck, now, after all. He had helped to save her from being beaten to death by the Raven's dancers. He had helped Mytho regain his powers and status. He had even helped Rue, at least a little bit. But Duck was still a duck. And he wanted to change that _so much_.

He looked back at her; she had finished the crumbs, and was just sitting in the sun, resting. She looked peaceful, content. She looked like a duck who had the whole world at her feet and no need to bother with it. His eyes softened; maybe, _he_ was the one who had a problem with her still being a duck…?

Was he holding her back? Was he writing her a simple contented life as a duck repeatedly because that's what _she_ wanted? Did she want to just move past her time as a human, as Princess Tutu, as Duck the dancer, and try to live more simply? What right did _he_ have to dictate how she lived?

Duck opened her eyes and looked at him. Without any comment, her look became slightly worried and she got up, then waddled over to him. She looked up at him, and he saw his anxious face reflected in her eyes. "Quack?"

He didn't like the look of fear he saw in his own eyes. But what he disliked more was the concern and worry he saw in her. Even as a duck, she knew something was amiss. He softened his look a best he could, and smiled at her. He would try to be more positive, at least in appearance, for her. She deserved that much. And more. And so much more. But that was all he could give her right now.

She continued looking at him, and tilted her head a little, not really changing her look. Then, she decided to soften too, and somehow gave him a reassuring look. "Quack."

That's when he knew that there was still something inside her, something that had always been within her, that was hers: hope. No matter what form she was in, Duck always had hope bursting forth from her like a fountain. He knew then that she would always be the Duck he had come to know, and that there was a way of changing her back to human form. If there was enough hope to illuminate from inside of her, there was enough to change her outside as well.

He was sure of it.


End file.
